Sir, Yes Sir
by Amethyst Beloved
Summary: What if Tristan stopped Miles from leaving school before their History presentation and came up with an alluring way to convince him to stay? The way 1407: I'll Be Missing You should have been. Suggestive themes.


Miles felt like he was going to throw up any second. His head was spinning and he was sure that he was going to pass out. Years of experience from speaking to the media at obligatory press conferences seemed to have vanished in thin air.

 _Live your life_. Hasn't that always been his motto? He had no problem deflecting snide remarks hurled at his face thanks to his quick wit and bottomless supply of snark. But his self-confidence quickly shrivelled at the thought of facing a whole classroom of judgy idiots judging him. This was a fight that he could not win. He needed a way out, and screw the consequences.

Of course that would unfortunately mean letting Tristan down. But would that be such a bad thing? Sure his boyfriend would be incredibly hurt but is it any different from the pain resonating in his voice when he asked if he was the problem? Leave it to Tristan's insecurities to cloud his vision. Maybe he should break it off and let him go if that's how he really felt. Miles was used to running when things got complicated. Why should this be any different? But what was Tristan even talking about, anyway? There was no hint of a problem to begin with. Well, except for the fact that he was hitting up his supplier more often than usual, but he was sure that it was just the additional stress at home from his father's campaign coming to an end.

Deciding to bolt, he sped out of the classroom. He didn't get far because right as he passed under the threshold he almost crashed into his boyfriend who nearly dropped the poster for their presentation. Surprise overcame Tristan at first. But it didn't take him long to put two and two together and realize that he was seconds away from being ditched, and left all alone with their school assignment.

"This isn't what it looks like."

Tristan didn't even giving bother giving the blunt lie a response.

"Okay, fine, I was going to run, but you caught me red handed. Look, I'll stick around."

"Do you seriously believe that an apology will get you off the hook?"

"Maybe?"

"No, no, no, that wouldn't do at all. First of all, we still need to practice. But if I'm going to persuade you to stay, I need to make this more... appealing for you."

"Oh?"

"Yet at the same time you must be punished. You've misbehaved and someone has to teach you a lesson. Miles... have you ever tried role playing?"

"No... but I've always been curious about it."

"You, um, wanna try this out?"

"Okay."

"We need a special word, though. For if things get, uh, too intense."

"All right. How about... 'Basketball?'"

Tristan scoffed at the choice before transforming into character. Miles gulped as a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbled up from within. What did his boyfriend have in mind? He watched Tristan take a deep breath and without being able to describe how it happened, the blond suddenly adopted an air that seemed incredibly foreign to anything Miles had ever witnessed before.

"Attention, soldier!"

Letting instinct take over, he straightened his body and squared his shoulders while keeping his chin up and arms firmly to his side. Tristan began their presentation.

"Fashions of World War II: how uniforms help establish status and bonds between soldiers. Here we have Private Hollingsworth wearing a fierce Royal Air Force bomber jacket."

While Tristan was speaking, he slowly circled around Miles until he was directly behind him and just an inch away. He brought his hands up front and slipped both of them in the inside of the coat to freely finger his boyfriend's abs.

On instinct, Miles was already bringing his arms up to bring him closer for a hug. But just before he could achieve what he wanted, Tristan recoiled and swiftly grabbed a plastic ruler from the desk to slap him on the hand.

"I never gave you permission to touch me."

A chill travelled down Miles' spine. A part of him was shocked with the way Tristan was dominating him with such ease. His face was stained red from shame and he couldn't believe that his sweet boyfriend mustered up the nerve to be so forward with role playing. The brunet was not used to taking orders.

Yet… an even bigger part of him was shocked that he was enjoying this. Miles was usually the one to be in control and to have that stripped away from him was indescribably arousing and already had him mentally calculating how far he could push before Tristan reeled him back in line.

"Sorry, Tris."

" _Excuse me_ , soldier? From here on in you are to address me properly."

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Tristan continued the oral by carefully pushing the jacket off of Miles' shoulders and allowing it to drop on the floor.

"Here you can see the silver captain wings."

Tristan cupped Miles' right pectoral muscle firmly and didn't hesitate to circle the nubbin of his nipple that was rapidly hardening underneath the material with his thumb. The brunet let out a shaky breath, but he didn't break his stance. As a reward, Tristan dropped lingering kisses along his collarbone.

It was Miles' turn to speak and though he knew his part by heart, Tristan was making the job extra challenging because he felt his fingers touch the back of his neck and make their way down his spine. The lower he traveled the slower he went until Miles felt the hand brushing gently against his backside. Not being able to stand the way Tristan was delaying the inevitable, Miles decided to take action and jerk his hips back. The blond was faster and used the flat of his palm to swiftly smack his behind with such strength that Miles wouldn't have been surprised if there was a mark.

"Step out of line again and next time I will strap you down with your tie."

Miles decided that he wouldn't go as far as giving Tristan that much satisfaction. At least not during _this_ session.

Once they concluded their speech, Tristan let out a grunt of approval and was already starting to slip out from his role.

"Stand easy, soldier."

Before Tristan had time to face his boyfriend, he felt strong arms twisting him around and his back was slammed across Perino's desk. Miles leaned over him while he was kissing him roughly, and had Tristan's wrists pinned at both sides of his head. The blond squirmed from the surprise attack so Miles widened his legs in order to move in even closer and straddle his boyfriend by clamping his thighs around Tristan's legs so he would stop bucking. Once Tristan got the message that he wasn't going to escape any time soon, he gasped and melted under Miles' kiss. That gave Miles the opportunity to dip his tongue in his boyfriend's mouth and he hummed with pleasure.

Miles pulled away before things could get any further and gave his hand to Tristan to help him sit back up. They looked at each other and giggled sheepishly.

"We should definitely do that again," said Miles as he leaned in to give Tristan a tender kiss on his wrist.

"Wanna switch next time?"

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I'm still _very_ curious to see what you want to do with my tie."

"Then you won't have to wait for long."

"Sir, _yes Sir_."


End file.
